


Ishlandur Masturbates While Siorys Sleeps

by gerty_3000



Category: Diablo III
Genre: Dream Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerty_3000/pseuds/gerty_3000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes when the urge takes you, you just gotta beat ya meat</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ishlandur Masturbates While Siorys Sleeps

Siorys.

The name stuck in Ishlandur's mind as he sat in their small camp, staring at the waning embers of the fire. The wizard had much to contemplate, now that they had a moment to rest. It was his turn to keep watch, and he thought of their travels thus far. They were on the way to Caldeum, and Ishlandur was not anticipating the blistering heat nor sands. He was sure the others would fare better, having not spent all their time in elegant towers and university halls, surrounded by books rather than searing grains.

His eyes fell upon the sleeping Hunter, lips quirked in a small smile as he watched the man's chest rise and fall; in time with a blade of grass near Siorys' nose that moved back and forth- pulling against his nose when he inhaled and being pushed back when he exhaled, it was entertaining to watch. Ishlandur would have let out a laugh if it wouldn't have alerted any enemy lurking about, nor woken up his sleeping companions.

The Wizard sighed softly though, a soundless exhale as he slid off his chair and inched towards the lean man, gently plucking the green stalk to keep from Siorys' nose being dyed. He imagined the experience would be embarrassing. Perhaps he knew it would be, having done something similar. Well, his eyebrows had been burned off in an alchemy accident but it was similar!

He held the blade of grass, hand resting near the Demon Hunter's face as he studied the lines of the plant, before he realized that the warm feeling of air across his hand sent tingles all along his skin. Ishlandur's eyes widened just slightly and he pulled his hand away, once more watching Siorys with a curious intensity. There was certainly no denial that the Hunter was handsome, very much so. The problem was if the Wizard's growing infatuation would be accepted.

Preference as a fickle thing, as was context. Now was perhaps the worst time to be falling for someone; no less someone he fought side-by-side with. Hellfire rained from the skies and demons crawled from every orifice of the ground, and here he was admiring the way Siorys breathed.

Ishlandur could forget the context for a small while, though, in the faint light of the moon and struggling embers of the flame. The Wizard let his hand fall, ghosting over Siorys' nose once more and feeling the warm air pass over his skin, fingers warm, then cold as he inhaled. It was mesmerizing, and the Wizard remained still like that for more than a few minutes, eyes lidded and lips parted with gentle air as he was afriad breathing too hard would disturb the Demon Hunter; inhaling softly, he breathed in the smell of sweat and dirt and blood, suddenly so much more appealing when worn by the man before him.

His hand twitched as it rest near Siorys' lips and in a subtle movement he traced the somewhat chapped, pinkish skin. He felt that in that moment if he dared touch more that he would wake the man. So he didn't, he simply rest his index and middle finger on Siorys' top lip. Slowly, the Wizard pulled his hand back, inching away from the Demon Hunter. He crawled back into his bedroll, eyes never leaving Siorys. He remembered the warm breath on his hand and the dry skin of his lips, and watched once more as the lean man breathed.

Except now Ishlandur was aroused, no longer idly curious as he slowly slipped his thumbs into the band of his leggings, carefully inching them down. Ishlandur was half-hard already, and once he got the soft cloth around his thighs he quickly grasped his cock, inhaling with a sharper breath through his nose as he lightly touched himself, fingertips dancing over the warm skin. His left hand met his lips, tongue curling around his fingers for better lubricant. Soon enough his hand was slick and he replaced his right hand, holding his breath to keep from grunting in pleasure.

Slowly he pumped, eyes unblinking as they stayed on the Demon Hunter, handsome and still, save his chest which rose and fell. Ishlandur imagined his gruff voice right in his ear, stubble rubbing against his cheek or throat. It filled the Wizard with lust and he wanted to close his eyes to make it seem more real, but why deprive himself of that wonderful sight? He arched into his hand, biting his lip as he watched Siorys, imagining the man taking him in close quarters, where none would see. Or perhaps a different fantasy- in a great hall where the noblest of mages could watch, but only that. He wanted Siorys to himself, but eyes upon their glory could certainly go without objection.

He stuck to the first one, though, playing the thoughts out as if the event had just happened earlier that day. Ishlandur and Siorys had somehow got away from the group; A Witch Doctor man and a Barbarian woman who's names escaped the Wizard, he didn't think too much on that detail. They got away from the group, he thought perhaps they all split up for exploration purposes. It didn't matter; what mattered was they cleared a room of demonic beings, and he was suddenly pinned against a wall, those chapped lips upon his own, and Siorys' hand palming him through his robes.

Ishlandur let the tiniest moan escape him at that thought, arching into his palm as he thought of that. His gaze grew focused and his heart pounded with panic rather than arousal at his carelessness, eyes darting about the camp with fear. None seemed to have minded though, as the figures now only lit by the moon didn't stir. He was grateful for that, and continued to stroke himself, thumb rubbing against the slit of his cock, smearing pre-cum.

He remembered the smell of sweat and blood, and it was heavenly now in the thought of it against him, of Siorys holding him tight against the wall, unable to even squirm as rough digits encircled his dick. The Wizard made a note to watch the Demon Hunter's mouth as he talked, to fully imagine his teeth as they raked across his throat, leaving red welts and dark bruises behind.

The Wizard imagined Siorys' desperation, imagined him nearly tearing away his clothes and forcing him down to his knees; he imagined the Demon Hunter's erection as one hand fisted in the back of his head, gripping his ponytail and forcing him to suck him off. Only for a few moments though, to slick his erection before Ishlandur would be forced back up to stand, thighs held and supported against the wall as Siorys would fuck him, rough and painful but so /very/ pleasurable.

"/Oh/." He let out a soft sigh, vowel accentuated with another soft moan and, catching a mixture of saliva and pre-cum, he pressed his now slick left index finger against his entrance, pushing inside to finger himself. Ishlandur was drawing close to his release, eyes now shut and bottom lip caught between his teeth, hands moving with a nigh desperate intensity.

He remembered the grunts and gasps and shouts of pain when fighting with Siorys, and while it filled him with a pang of guilt to use the Demon Hunter's sounds of agony to fufill his fantasies, it seemed so appropriate. Cries of pleasure and cries of suffering were rather similar, and Ishlandur could ignore his guilt while pleasuring himself. Though he wanted to frown at that thought. He wished that it was Siorys pleasuring him- no, pleasuring them both. He wasn't greedy!

Keeping those thoughts away, thrusting his finger into himself and stroking with his other hand, Ishlandur held his breath and dug his teeth into his lower lip as his muscles seized; arousal hooked tight in his groin as he came, strings of semen staining his abdomen and hand. He lay back against his bedroll, breath heavy and heart racing as he stared up at the sky, cool air easily soothing his sweaty skin. When his chest eventually stopped heaving, the Wizard made an attempt to clean himself up, eased his pounding heart and moved to Siorys. He crouched, gently shaking the man awake.

"It's your turn to watch." He mumbled, voice rough and raw and he quickly moved back to his bedroll in shame and embarrassment. Ishlandur tucked himself beneath the too-warm pelts, back facing Siorys but eyes wide open as he listened to the gentle stirring and the sound of the man breathing. The Wizard would certainly not be sleeping that night.

**Author's Note:**

> ishlandur is the wizard, siorys is the demon hunter. yea.


End file.
